Page 78 of Risks of Temptation
We remove the bungee cords holding the tarp in place and pull it off. A blue Toyota pickup truck, ten years old, shines in the sunlight.
"It looks so clean," Emilia responds.
"The owner probably washed it before they covered it." I open my backpack and take out my tool kit.
"What's that?"
"The key to our ride."
Emilia smiles, and my heart beats quicker.
She's pure sunshine.
Her ability to bring excitement to everything we've done only fuels my craving for her. We've dealt with some pretty rough terrain, two nights in the outdoors, and nothing substantial for food. Her positive attitude and willingness to help along the way is something I appreciate. Most women would be complaining, but Emilia hasn't complained once, even when she got bit by several bugs during our walk this morning.
I dip down and kiss her.
She laces her fingers in my hair and kisses me back, stoking every atom in me that makes me a man.
"Did I tell you I'm impressed with your survival skills?"
She beams. "You are?"
"Yep. You can come rough it with me any time."
She puts her lush lips on mine again.
I squeeze her ass. "Okay, ma belle. Time to make things happen." I release her, jimmy the lock, and open her door. She gets in, and I hotwire the truck. It starts right away.
She claps. "Look at your skills!"
I look at the gauge. "We're in luck. The tank is full."
"We should make it in time now, right?"
"What time do the banks close?"
Her face falls. She points to the dashboard. "Is that time correct?"
I glance at my watch, and my gut drops. "Yes."
Her voice is so low and full of worry, the hairs on my arm stand up. "Forty-five minutes."
I put the truck in reverse. "How far is your apartment from the bank?"
"A five-minute walk."
"I'll drive fast."
We spend the next half hour on the one-way lane. I call Gustave.
He answers in French. Since Emilia is with me, I speak in English.
"We aren't going to make it in time."
"Why not?"
"The bank will be closed."
